


Protective

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Integrated Worlds [14]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, my tumblr is knight-of-heart-and-art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14225262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: Dave's happy with his boyfriend. He hasn't met Karkat's brother yet, though.The first meeting does not go well at all.





	1. Dave

You're poking around in Karkat's kitchen when you hear the knock on the door. If he wasn't asleep for once, you'd just wait for him to get it; you haven't slept over at his place often enough to feel okay answering the door and not feeling like you need to explain who you are and what the hell you're doing here. But he is asleep, and you know for a fact he had a shitty night last night; even with you holding him he still kept waking up, clinging to you and mumbling about shit back on Alternia. 

So yeah. You're the one who's gotta go see who it is and what they want. 

"Who" is the guy from the lockscreen of Karkat's phone. His older brother. Kankri. "What" is...probably something not good. He looks absolutely pissed, as you open the door, and he immediately crosses his arms and scowls at you. 

Okay. You need to be nice. You need to be really fucking nice, because this is Karkat's family and you don't even know if he knows you two are dating—fuck, if he didn't know, he definitely does now. There's not a lot of other explanations for you answering the door at seven in the morning, wearing one of Karkat's long-sleeved shirts. You should still try to come up with some kinda explanation. 

"Uh. Hey." That's not an explanation. That's barely even a greeting. Fuck. 

"Hello yourself." Shit. That sounds like a nice polite tone, but the look on his face definitely doesn't agree with it. "I'm assuming you're _David_?"

Oh, you don't like the emphasis on your name. "Yeah, that'd be me. Did you need—" 

"My name is Kankri. Karkat is my younger brother." 

"Yeah, I. Uh. Know who you are—" 

"Oh?" His eyebrows go up. Just a bit. You don't think that's real surprise, though; it feels to you like he's faking it on some level, feels like a trap. You're being paranoid. "So he told you about his family, then?" 

"Yeah, kind of—" 

"Strange. He doesn't talk to us about you." Yeah. Yeah, that was a trap, and even though you kind of saw it coming it doesn't make it hurt any less. "And you certainly haven't talked to us about him, now have you? Wouldn't that count as a breach of etiquitte? Not that I'm completely versed in your human customs—after all, we've only lived in this society for three years. Although that also means you've had something less than three years to get acquainted with my brother, before. Hm. Moving in with him, perhaps?" 

"That's not—we aren't—" 

Kankri sniffs and frowns disapprovingly at you. "Well, you're certainly doing something. Where is he, anyway?" 

"Asleep." Don't be a fucking coward, Dave. Stand up to this dude. But like, do it politely. "You can't wake him up right now, either, dude, he slept like shit last night. Come back in a couple hours, maybe?" 

"Well, it was you I wanted to talk to, anyway." That is absolutely the last thing you wanted to hear. You really want him to just leave, not for him to smooth a polite smile across his face and take a step forward. He probably wants you to let him in, but you just fucking freeze up instead. At least he doesn't shove you out of the way. "Specifically, to ask you a few questions about your intentions with Karkat." 

"My what?" You don't have intentions. 

"Well, there must be a reason he hasn't told us about his lover." 

"Boyfriend." 

"Ah. If you say so." You hate the dubious way he says that. "But my point still stands, however you care to classify your relationship. I've heard a few things about you that are, quite frankly, worrisome, at least when taken into consideration along with the fact that you're involved with my brother. I wouldn't like—"

"Wait, what? What kind of things? Who the hell told you shit about me?" Fuck, that probably came out as angry, rather than showing the anxiety you're feeling right now. Who'd talk about you, who the fuck would try to set Karkat's family on you like this? Because from how pissed Kankri is, this was definitely a purposeful thing. Somebody told him bad shit about you. 

Fuck. 

There's basically one person that comes to mind here, and you don't want to think about him. Not that you can help it. 

"Who it was isn't important at the moment—" Kankri starts, and you shake your head and reach for the doorknob like you're going to close the door, glaring at him the whole time. 

"It fucking matters to me." Hopefully he doesn't call you on your bluff. There's no way you can cut him off without learning if your bro's trying to fuck your life up again. "Who the fuck was it?" 

God you are absolutely terrified. For the moment where he just frowns at you, you can barely breathe. 

Then he exhales sharply and says, "My boyfriend. Cronus. He said he found you online, and told me about the sort of things you do." 

"The sort of..." Oh, shit. You actually know who Kankri's talking about. It's that fucking asshole who dug up some of your bro's old videos—the ones with you in them, most of them pretty fucking edited and spliced together to make it seem like you were doing shit he couldn't quite coerce you into doing—and tried to fucking blackmail you with them. He wanted you to film some porn for him, and you told him to fuck off. Then when he didn't, you got Roxy to write a virus that would eat everything on his computer and trash it completely. 

Karkat has no idea that any of this happened. 

Kankri, apparently, does, and Cronus obviously had backup copies of every fucking video that he sent you, of course he would, of course he did, and somebody other than you and one random asshole's seen them. Somebody you know saw them, your boyfriend's fucking brother saw them. Maybe (probably) Kankri's got copies of them, and he obviously doesn't like you. 

What if he decides to show Karkat?

What the hell are you going to do then? 

Some part of your brain recognises that Kankri is still talking, but it's just white noise to you at this point. You're so screwed, you're so fucking screwed, and you can't move beyond the almost-painful horror you're feeling because of it. 

"David?" That word only registers because it's your name, it means you're supposed to fucking pay attention—which you can't do right now. The fact that you can't concentrate on him well enough to understand what he's saying makes the panic worse, and when he reaches for you, you fucking lose any semblance of calm you've been keeping in place.

He touches your shoulder, you wince and cringe down and pull your hands up to shield your face even though the rational half of your brain knows that this guy isn't going to hit you. And that makes shit worse, too; you're not reacting to this like a normal person, you know you're not, and you can't. Fucking. Help it. So you keep your hands up over your face, and you back up a step—bad move, bad fucking move, that's going to let him come into the apartment, you fucked up—

Okay, well now Kankri's past the door and you've got your back against the wall and even if he's not touching you he's getting just a little louder and more agitated with whatever the hell he's saying and—

"Dave? What the hell—Kankri, what the fuck did you _do_?" 

Karkat. That's Karkat. You can't move to lower your hands from your face, can't fucking move at all, but you know his voice, and it's enough to loosen the knot tied in your chest enough so you can breathe just a little. 

He knows how he can touch you when you're fucked up like this—gently, on your arms and shoulders, he knows not to get near your head or the places on your torso that you've been trained to protect—and he carefully pulls you over to the couch, steadying you as you stumble and snarling at Kankri when he gets too near. You're so fucking grateful for that; if Kankri fucked with you right now you don't know what you'd do. Maybe try to hurt him, even though you don't really want to. You can't fucking help it.

But he doesn't. And Karkat pulls you down on the couch, wrapping his arms around you when you start shaking and tangling his fingers in your hair, crooning to you and shushing you gently until you lower your hands and lean into him instead of sitting there like a piece of fucking wood. He only speaks once he's sure you've come back a little. 

"Kankri, get the fuck out." It's not a yell. He says it very quietly; he'd seem calm if you didn't know him as well as you do, if you weren't as tuned to his moods as you are, but he's fucking _furious._ At his brother. 

Because of you. 

Fuck. 

"Don' be pissed at him, man," you mumble, not raising your head from where you have your face pressed into Karkat's shoulder. " 'm the one who fucked up." 

You get another kinda-aggressive shoosh for that, Karkat's nails digging into your scalp just a touch. "You think I don't know what kind of fuckery this halfwitted douchecanoe pulls, Dave? I grew up with him, remember? He's an _idiot._ " 

"He's your brother." 

"Wow, thanks for the reminder that idiocy's usually considered to be a fucking genetic trait—" 

"Hey." God you really hope there aren't tears in your eyes, as you raise your head to look at Karkat. Your vision's clear, so...probably not. "He's your bro." 

Karkat just stares back at you, the angry scowl on his face noticably undermined by how gentle his hands are as he keeps working his fingers through your hair, trying to get you to calm down a bit more. (You don't think that's going to happen.) "So fucking what?" 

Kankri makes a soft, dismayed sound, and you pull away from Karkat a little to look over at him. At least he looks a little ashamed of himself. Maybe ashamed enough to not bring up the videos. God, you hope he isn't going to tell Karkat about those...

"Fuck off," Karkat tells him again, and he actually takes a step back. "Wait—no, actually, you're going to tell me what the _fuck_ you said to my matesprite. Then I'm going to eviscerate you and strangle you with your own intestines, _then_ you can fuck off." 

"You're not exactly behaving like a proper matesprit, Karkat," Kankri points out, reasonably enough. "If you're engaging in quadrant blurring, you ought to be open about it. It's not exactly like there's any shame in unconventional relationships, especially when one or more of the participants is human—" 

" _Kankri_. If I didn't have my _boyfriend_ in my lap right now, you'd be bleeding from at least four orifices, two of which I'd have ripped in your idiot hide." 

Your immediate response to that is, of course, to tighten your arms around Karkat's waist. Even though you know he's not serious, he wouldn't start physical shit when you're in the room, you don't want a fucking fight. If you hold him here, everything's going to be okay. 

Kankri hesitates for a second, then sighs, arms crossing so he can get a fistful of his own red sweater with each hand. "I was worried about you, Karkat—" 

"Why the hell would you be worried about me? Because of Dave? Because you don't want me dating? Because you don't want me to be dating a _human_?" Karkat's getting louder. He's angry and frustrated and protective, and all of that makes you want to burrow into him and calm him down, make sure he's okay and that he knows you'll be fine. "You—"

"Why on earth would I care that he's a human? That doesn't impact your safety—" 

"Dave doesn't impact my safety! He's not fucking dangerous!" 

"He has engaged in the making of pornography; don't you know the statistics behind—" 

Karkat pulls one arm free of you, and for a second you're afraid he's going to just push you away. If you weren't fucking frozen, you'd cling to him, stop him from leaving. Even if you do deserve to be left.

He doesn't even try to push you away, though. What he does do is lean over, grab the book you left on the arm of the couch last night, and hurl it as hard as he fucking can. Surprisingly, his aim's pretty accurate too—the book hits Kankri square in the chest. It's a hardcover; that's gotta hurt. 

You don't think you've seen someone look quite that baffled in a while. "Karkat—" 

"Out." When Kankri opens his mouth to say something else, Karkat shuts his eyes and pulls you closer, flattening his free hand over one ear in a gesture that's technically ineffective but gets his point across. "Out, out, out-out-out get the _fuck_ out—" 

A second later the door shuts behind Kankri, and Karkat immediately shuts up and wraps both arms around you again, waiting for you to look at him so he can study your face.  
"I'm alright," you tell him. It's kinda true. "I'm...sorry. I should've—" 

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Karkat growls, pulling you over so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "You're okay. There's nothing to be sorry for." 

"...other'n that you get to find out about my fucked-up shit from your fucking brother, 'stead of from me." You shake your head and slump down against him, pressing your face into his shirt and taking a deep breath. "Should'a. Trusted you." 

"Dave, hey." You can feel him growl just a little as he sighs, irritation not directed at you. "I don't think you don't trust me." 

"I couldn't tell you." 

"I know. I know you couldn't. Can't isn't won't, okay? I understand that. And I don't give a single fuck what Kankri thinks; I know you couldn't hurt me." 

"Wouldn't ever." Okay. You're okay. He's not angry, not disgusted, he's—it's okay. "I wanna try and explain to him." 

"...yeah. If you want to, okay, but I'm going to be right there, alright?" His hands are in your hair again. It's calming. "If he starts fucking up your head again, it stops." 

"Mhm. Thanks..." 

"Don't you fucking thank me, idiot." 

"Love you too, babe."

You're so fucking lucky.


	2. Kankri

When Karkat tells you to get out, when he says it like he means it, your heart makes a decent attempt to exit your body via sinking low enough to fall through the soles of your feet. By the time you're back out on the street and walking with no clear destination in mind other than _away,_ the undefined sinking sensation has clarified into actual panic. 

You have—to steal a phrase your brother is quite fond of— _fucked up._

And of course, your phone is already buzzing in your pocket with incoming messages. You'll check it in a minute; you've lectured Karkat on the dangers of texting and walking often enough that you have no desire to make yourself a hypocrite by doing it yourself. 

The real question is that of where you intend to go, though. Home is an option, you suppose—but you know that Karkat's probably already informed your father of what you've managed to do today, and you need to collect yourself before you try to explain what you were thinking. The library. A coffeeshop. Cronus's—

_No._ Not your boyfriend's place. Your soon-to-be _ex_ -boyfriend's place. You're not going there. 

Oh, dear. You're angry at him, almost furious with him. Not that you have a right to be angry—after all, this situation is almost entirely your fault—but he gave you the information, damn it! He showed you the videos! He—

_Yes, yes, but who reacted? Hmm? You. That would be_ you.

You wince and nearly walk into the door of a coffeeshop as someone else opens it. Alright, it seems this is where you're going for now. 

The woman minding the counter looks at you oddly as you stand in line, but she takes your order anyway. Perhaps they don't get many trolls here? Most areas are like that, in this city anyway. Highbloods prefer to frequent businesses that give them some kind of status boost, lowbloods stick to places that are known to be friendly to trolls—even if there's less risk of physical violence here than there is on the planet of your birth, and more chance of even a lowblood winning an altercation since humans don't have the fighting instincts your species does, that sort of habit dies hard. 

Anyway. You get a strange look, but she doesn't refuse to serve you or overcharge you, which is slightly surprising since you're too upset about the current state of affairs to do more than tell her what you want to order and pay her for it. You really wish that your social abilities didn't go right out the window when you're upset. 

You take your drink to a corner table, set it down, and extricate your phone from your pocket. The fact that it _doesn't_ squirm in dismay as it picks up on your distress like the Alternian equivalent would gives you pause for a moment—three years, and you're still not quite used to earth tech sometimes. 

It's your father messaging you. And also Karkat. And someone you don't recognize—turntechGodhead? 

Hm.

You start with the message from calmingGospel. 

calmingGospel (CG) started pestering moralDictation (MD) !

CG: You seem to have done something unusual, for you at least, Kankri. Karkat's upset. 

MD: ...I kn9w.   
MD: I fucked up. 

CG: You really must have, if you're the one saying that. 

MD: I think I kind 9f 6r9ke his 69yfriend. Sli9htly. A l9t. As in, I'm an idi9t wh9 can't rec99nise s9me9ne wh9's in the pr9cess of bein9 hi9hly tri99ered directly in fr9nt of me.   
MD: Als9 that I have zer9 a6ility to realize that _I'm_ the 9ne tri99erin9 the p99r human. I'm a failure.   
MD: Als9, Karkat is 96ing t9 kill me and I will have deserved it. 

CG: Karkat has a boyfriend?

MD: Karkat has a human boyfriend. 

CG: ...huh.   
CG: Interesting.   
CG: What did you do to the human boyfriend? 

MD: Um.   
MD: I think that the m9st m9ral c9urse is t9 leave the details unsp9ken due t9 reas9ns that I am n9t at li6erty to divul9e, but I can admit that I succeeded in tri99erin9 a panic attack. 

CG: Kankri, how the hell did you manage to do that? You ask for everyone's triggers before you introduce yourself, usually; I don't see how you could have done that accidentally and I'm fairly sure you wouldn't do it on purpose.   
CG: If you did do this on purpose, I think Karkat might actually be justified in whatever level of retaliation he wants to do to you. 

MD: He is anyway. Justified, I mean. 

CG: Every little mistake doesn't need to be punished, Kankri. 

MD: Well, this was a lar9e trans9ressi9n, not a little mistake.

CG: I still have very little idea what actually happened. 

Damn. You don't want to explain. You're not sure you're allowed to explain, really; Dave very obviously doesn't want knowledge of whatever he might have done in the past to go any farther than it has. In fact, you think that you're somewhat obliged to remove the physical evidence that you know of from its current location and return it to its proper owner. 

As in, you'll have to pay Cronus a visit—speak of the devil; he's messaging you too. You really do not want to talk to him, but it gives you a convenient excuse to stall your father. 

MD: I'm s9rry, I have s9me thin9s to take care of. Talk t9 y9u later.

He texts you again as you open Cronus's chatbox, but you ignore him for the moment. Cronus has asked several questions (which you don't bother to read) and is typing another as you type out four words and send them. 

MD: We are thr9u9h, Cr9nus.

moralDictation (MD) blocked cronusAmpora (CA) !

This leaves you with two active messages to handle before you decide what to do next. Three, if you count the one from your father, which you absolutely do not right now. You don't particularly want to count the one from Karkat, either; he's sure to be angry at you, and if you have to face that ire right now you will definitely cry right here in this coffeeshop. 

So. Time to see what turntechGodhead wants. And who he is. 

turntechGodhead (TG) started pestering moralDictation (MD) !

TG: yo 

MD: Um. Hell9?   
MD: I'm n9t sure wh9 y9u are. 

TG: wow rude   
TG: dont you know the ghost of christmas past when you talk to him 

MD: The what? 

TG: okay so apparently that line works better on humans huh  
TG: its just me  
TG: as in dave   
TG: karkat gave me your username

...oh. Oh dear. 

You stare at your phone for a moment. What does he want? To scold you? You deserve that. However...you should try and apologize to him. Yes, that's the wisest course, you decide, and you start typing out a response. 

Before you get even halfway done, David is sending you more messages. 

TG: im seeing a whole lotta typing there  
TG: should i be concerned? i feel like i should be concerned  
TG: holy shit dude are you writing an essay here  
TG: nevermind karkat says youre probably doing just that

MD: I w9uld like t9 9ffer my sincere ap9l99ies f9r my 6ehavi9ur. I am aware that my acti9ns can 6e seen as and pr96a6ly are unf9rgiva6le, and f9r9iveness is n9t what I request here anyway. I c9mpletely understand if y9u ch99se to 6reak 9ff all c9ntact with me s9 as t9 av9id any further unpleasantness, 6ut I assure y9u that I will d9 my 6est t9 not 6ehave as 6adly as I just did in the future. I am s9rry. 

TG: well damn i expected you to yell at me some more  
TG: this is a pleasant surprise

MD: I'm s9rry?

TG: hmmmm  
TG: okay dude "unforgivable" is a pretty strong term and i dunno if it applies here  
TG: like obviously we got off on the wrong foot because of reasons but we might as well make another try of it right?  
TG: hey there  
TG: im dave strider and im dating your brother

MD: I kn9w y9u are, and I ap9l99ize for sayin9 that y9u sh9uldn't 6e in a relati9nship with Karkat, David. 

TG: sigh  
TG: its dave   
TG: just dave   
TG: david sounds hella formal and wrong to me   
TG: like cmon thats obviously something that belongs on legal documents and shit and nowhere else  
TG: do i really look like a david anyway?

MD: ...um. Alri9ht then, Dave. My ap9l99ies. 

TG: damn you apologize a lot

MD: I think that I need t9 ri9ht n9w, s9...yes. I d9. 

TG: yeah maybe but you said sorry and im gonna assume you meant it 

MD: I d9 mean it! 

TG: dude calm down i believe you  
TG: look you didnt really say that much that wasnt true in the first place okay  
TG: im with karkat and i didnt tell you or yalls dad and those fucking videos do exist and are a thing that happened  
TG: but i swear to god id never do anything to hurt him   
TG: those vids are from years ago like the newest possible ones wouldve been from right before you guys came here  
TG: and ive been tested for stds and im clean so its not like thats gonna bite him in the ass 

MD: Tested f9r what n9w?   
MD: Wait, nevermind. That's n9t even what I was w9rried a69ut, anyway. 

TG: okay well what was it that you felt was dangerous enough to flip out on me over then  
TG: share with the class my dude  
TG: like i get that im super intimidating to trolls   
TG: not   
TG: well other than if they know about the whole stupid fight club thing because in that case theres a couple idiots whore fucking terrified of me but thats another story   
TG: everybody else totally thinks they can kick my ass and maybe theyre right  
TG: probably not though cause im a hell of a lot tougher than i look  
TG: ow 

MD: 9w? 

TG: karkats elbowing me to get me to quit rambling   
TG: he does have a point too cause i kinda do want to know what the hell you thought i was gonna do

MD: M9st 9f the pr96lem may actually 6e culture 9ap, I think...

TG: cool  
TG: give me an alternian sociology lesson then  
TG: alright im gonna guess youre more than ready to do that since youre still typing 

MD: This is actually a subject that I've d9ne s9me am9unt 9f research 9n, f9r my 9wn reas9ns. In the culture I 9rew up in, m9st 9f what y9u w9uld pr96a6ly call sex w9rkers are tr9lls wh9 f9r 9ne reas9n 9r an9ther cann9t or d9n't wish t9 fill their red and/9r 6lack quadrants. They alm9st always have a partner, h9wrver, wh9 may 9r may n9t fill their pale quadrant, but wh9se main j9b is t9 ensure that the first tr9ll—the r9le I s9mewhat assumed y9u filled, f9r which I again ap9l99ize—d9es n9t end up in any relati9nship which c9uld 6e c9nsidered detrimental t9 their well-6eing and pers9nal safety. I'm n9t sure what the En9lish translati9n f9r the term f9r that pr9tect9r is, 6ut it's n9t unkn9wn f9r partners of tr9lls wh9 have en9a9ed in pr9fessi9nally pr9duced p9rn9graphy 9r pr9stituti9n t9, well. End up 6adly injured 9r even dead.   
MD: And 6y "n9t unkn9wn" I mean "very, very c9mm9n." 

TG: oh   
TG: oh shit man   
TG: you thought my fucking pimp or whatever was gonna hurt him   
TG: fuck

MD: I sp9ke and acted with9ut c9nsidering cultural differences. Which is unf9r9iva6le. 

TG: would you calm the fuck down  
TG: its not unforgivable you idiot  
TG: trust me everybody gets at least one get-out-of-fucking-up-free card with me and your reason for using it is pretty fucking valid since you flipped because you wanted to protect your goddamn brother  
TG: anyway  
TG: okay  
TG: look  
TG: anybody who wouldve come after karkat for being with me is hella out of the picture  
TG: like your first assessment of the whole situation mightve been right if we were talking about three or four years ago because the guy behind the shit you saw was one bad motherfucker and if he was around id never have gotten nearer karkat than talking to him online   
TG: but hes gone  
TG: and most of the other guys know better than to try and contact me at all because basically everything about the shit he made me do was illegal as fuck and i can and will get them arrested for it if i ever see them again  
TG: other than that asshole cronus and my family nobody who knows me knows about that shit   
TG: also karkat might be messaging you right now but ignore him   
TG: hes exaggerating 

MD: I'm s9rry? 

Your brother _is_ messaging you; his icon is blinking angrily with a good few texts. You leave Dave's chatbox for a moment, just to check what Karkat has to say. 

The first two messages are from before you started this conversation with Dave; the rest are from just now. 

carcinoGeneticist (CG) started pestering moralDictation (MD) !

CG: DAVE DECIDED HE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU, ASSHOLE. HIS USERNAME'S TURNTECHGODHEAD; IF HE DOESN'T MESSAGE YOU FIRST YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE, OR I SWEAR TO GOG I'LL SKIN YOU WITH A FUCKING TUBER PEELER, ROLL YOUR SORRY CARCASS IN SALT, AND STAKE YOU OUT IN THE SUN UNTIL YOU TURN INTO FUCKING FLESH LEATHER I CAN FEED TO HARLEY'S BARKBEASTS.   
CG: DON'T YOU DARE MAKE HIM UPSET AGAIN, KANKRI. 

CG: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU NOT GET ABOUT "DON'T FUCKING UPSET HIM?!" DID I FUCKING STUTTER?   
CG: HE'S CRYING, AND I'M SO FUCKING CLOSE TO HAVING SOLLUX TRACE YOUR LOCATION SO I CAN COME GET YOU AND BEAT YOUR FUCKING ASS INTO NEXT WEEK OR GRUBMEAL. WHICHEVER WILL HURT MORE.   
CG: STOP DRAGGING THIS SHIT UP. 

Oh, dear. Perhaps you should just stop trying to talk to Dave at all. Except he's still texting you even as you think that; you can see the notifications pop up. 

TG: dont worry dude hes not gonna do anything   
TG: hes just freaked out is all  
TG: see this is exactly why he doesnt sit in on my therapy sessions and shit  
TG: huh i wonder if this counts as one  
TG: probably not unfortunately  
TG: itd be nice to have an excuse to skip one but eh  
TG: just as a question did karkat seriously scare you off

MD: N9. 

TG: okay cool  
TG: you should come over later though  
TG: like in an hour or two maybe  
TG: id say a little longer but i dont think ive got a prayer in hell of getting him to lie down and go back to sleep so yeah no 

MD: Um. I'd 6e happy t9 c9me 9ver, 6ut are y9u sure y9u actually mean that?

TG: yes kankri id actually like to get to know my boyfriends brother better than what weve managed so far since all weve done is get upset and have a panic attack   
TG: itll be okay

MD: ...I'm sure it will.   
MD: I'll 6e 9ver later, then. Thank y9u. 

moralDictation (MD) is an idle chum!

And you will go over there. But first, you have a few things you need to do. Well, not "need," technically, but you feel that you're morally obliged to at least try to ensure that the videos Cronus has of Dave end up either in the hands of their actual owner, or destroyed. 

This could possibly go quite badly. 

Oh well. 

You open another chatbox, to someone you don't often talk to, and start planning as you start typing.


	3. Karkat

moralDictation (MD) started pestering twinArmageddons (TA) !

MD: Hell9, S9llux.

TA: wow. iit2 the one who won't fuckiing 2hut up.    
TA: 2up, kankrii? need another favor?

MD: ...yes.   
MD: It's s9mething a 6it m9re, um. Interestin9? At least, I think y9u'll find it interestin9. Karkat's t9ld me a69ut y9ur less le9itimate ho66ies. 

TA: 2o you want me two blow 2omethiing up?

MD: Y9u can d9 that t9 a c9mputer? As in, with s9me s9rt 9f virus or malware or s9methin9?

TA: yeah of cour2e ii can dumba22   
TA: iim goiing to gue22 that2 not what you had iin miind though, 2o...   
TA: what do you want? 

MD: Well.    
MD: H9w 6adly can y9u mess up s9me9ne's c9mputer and 9ther electr9nics, if y9u have their passw9rds? 

TA: pfffft.   
TA: ii techniically dont _need_ you two giive me the pa22word2. ii can crack anythiing iin under fiive miinute2. 

MD: Includin9 r9yalty-level Alternian tech? 

TA: ...   
TA: congratulatiion2.    
TA: youve iintruiiged me.    
TA: mo2t of the hiigh-level biiotech on thii2 planet—the legiitiimate 2hiit, anyway—run2 on a network ii dont have acce22 two. iid have two have a piiece of the tech that wa2 actually hooked iintwo the net, otherwii2e even ii cant help you here. 

MD: And if I br9u9ht y9u a piece of seadweller tech?    
MD: I'm thinkin9 9f his ph9ne, specifically. I'm n9t sure h9w I w9uld make 9ff with anythin9 lar9er than that, alth9u9h if necessary I supp9se I can make an eff9rt. 

TA: nope, a phone would work fiine.    
TA: who pii22ed you off enough two re2ort two cyberterrori2m? 

MD: ...can we please n9t call it that. 

TA: hey iif youre goiing two do iit, miight a2 well call iit the cool name.

MD: ...   
MD: N9. 

TA: ugh, fiine. youre 2uch a wiimp.    
TA: you briing me the phone, iill do whatever iit i2 you want me two do wiith iit.    
TA: what am ii doiing wiith iit anyway?

MD: Destr9yin9 every scrap 9f data 9n all devices 6el9n9in9 t9 Cr9nus Amp9ra.

TA: hell fuckiing ye2.    
TA: ed ii2 goiing two eiither bee over the moon or throw an ab2olute 2hiitfiit. 

MD: D9 _n9t_ tell Eridan. 

TA: two late.

MD: ...damn it, Capt9r. 

TA: pffft. chiill out, vanta2.    
TA: 2ee you 2oon. 

MD: Cr9ss y9ur fin9ers 

moralDictation (MD) is offline!

* * *

Your idiot brother shows up around noon. This time, you get to the door before Dave can get untangled from the yarn he's rolling into a ball. Half an hour ago, that yarn was one of your _really_ old sweaters, the ones that you've kept past the point of wearability. This one might have made the trip from Alternia with you, actually. But it's old and ripped in like eight places, and Dave can make something comforting for either you or himself with the yarn, so it's time for the damn thing to get reincarnated. 

Plus, the process of dismantling the knitted fabric and rolling up the yarn calms Dave down. And he needs it—even with your reassurances that you'll make sure your brother doesn't start shit, and Kankri's own promise to behave, you can tell that Dave is still nervous as fuck. 

Which means you have to be really fucking sure nothing escalates here. Fuck, but you _hate_ being the eminently reasonable one in any fucking situation. Unfair. 

You'll do it anyway. For Dave. 

You open the door at Kankri's knock and just fucking freeze, trying to make some sense of what the hell you're seeing. Your brother's standing there, looking both proud and ashamed of himself, with a bruise rising across half his goddamn face and a cut lip. He raises one hand in a small wave of greeting, and _fuck,_ holy _shit_ there's blood on his hand, purple smears and _red,_ what the _fuck_ —you've never seen Kankri bleed, this isn't something that happens, he's so careful, more careful than you could ever be because even though your dad raised him since he was a wriggler and he didn't have to survive being a mutantblood with a lusus like you did, he _knows_ how dangerous his blood is. Maybe he knows better than you. And now he's bleeding—

"Oh, dear," Kankri says, eyes widening in dismay as he hides his hands behind his back. "Karkat—" 

"Holy shit, dude," Dave says, coming up behind you. "You're a fucking mess—" 

He stops talking as you grab for his arm, squeezing probably too hard. There's a lot of negative results of how your boyfriend grew up, but one _really_ good one is that he can read situations pretty fucking fast and make decisions on how to handle them even faster. There's a pause of maybe three seconds; then Dave reaches out to pull Kankri through the door, raises one finger to keep him from starting off on an explanation, and turns to you, working your hand loose from his arm and taking both your hands in his own. 

"Babe, 'kat, Karkles, hey," he says, and you're already calming a little because he's using his moirail voice, his equivalent of shooshing you gently because he says he feels stupid trying to do that. " 's okay. This is about blood, yeah? It is, isn't it?" He waits for your nod before he keeps talking. "This is earth, okay? Nobody's gonna take him for a mutant—most humans don't know that red isn't normal, and trolls are probably gonna think he's a human with weird bodymods trying to pass for troll, if they think about it at all. He's okay, man, he's safe. No drones." 

Dave will keep talking until you give him reason to stop, you know that. And you're fucking _thankful_ for that...but Kankri's still standing there, uncharacteristically patient, so you guess you should probably stop your boyfriend and deal with your brother. 

"No drones," you agree, pulling your hands out of Dave's and turning back to Kankri. "So what the fuck chewed you up?" 

"Well." Your brother shrugs, holding out one hand—the one that doesn't have blood on it—to Dave, offering him a small object that you can't identify for a moment. "I may have made a small foray into non-pacifistic negotiations. Father is going to be either proud of me, or very disappointed." 

That makes zero sense to you, but from the thunderstruck look on Dave's face as he gingerly picks the little object out of Kankri's hand, he knows what's going on. "Shit, man," he says, holding it up—it's a USB drive? You think it is— "did you punch out fucking Cronus?" 

And amazingly, Kankri nods. What the _fuck_? Really?

Dave stares at the USB stick for a second, then shoves it in his pocket and focuses on Kankri again, holding out his hand. "Lemme see your hand. I bet you hurt yourself pretty good, doing it, huh? Unless you researched punching the shit outta people too." 

The mix of pride and shame on Kankri's face tips on favor of shame again as he holds out his bloody hand, but now there's some rueful amusement there too. "I haven't had occasion to research that, no. Perhaps I should?" 

"Hey, it'd keep you from fucking yourself up when you're aiming to fuck somebody else up." Dave shrugs, glancing at you to see if you're examining Kankri's hand as closely as he is and relaxing a little when he sees that you're definitely not. "You can move your fingers, right?" 

"Yes. I don't think anything's broken, Dave; I just cut myself on his teeth and possibly sprained my thumb."

"Hm." Dave considers for a minute, then lets go of Kankri's hand to fold both of his hands into fists, one with his thumb folded inside and one with it outside. "Which way did you do it?" When Kankri taps the former, Dave winces sympathetically. "Karkat, I'm gonna teach your bro how to fight." 

"Good fucking luck." Then again, Kankri looks excited as fuck at that idea, not even a little worried. Has anybody bothered to offer to teach him anything before? Well, other than your dad? 

...you don't think so. 

Hm. 

Dave's already pulling Kankri towards the bathroom and the first aid kit you keep there, rambling about how to hit somebody and not hurt yourself as bad as your target and pausing every couple seconds for your brother's input. Both of them are calm, neither of them are defensive. 

You really didn't expect this to go this well, but fuck. Looks like Dave's going to fit into your family fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. Very few things have made me want to kill something like the formatting for this fic. Specifically, adding in the damn quirks. For anyone else who's trying to write chatlogs with like, Kankri and Sollux and those other idiots who use numbers? Here's a tutorial.
> 
> A) get an mxrp.chat account  
> B) get in a chat and have the other person disconnect  
> C) copy/paste all the chatlog for each character into mxrp, transfer it back into your fic  
> D) be glad that you're not me, who only thought of this shit after I was almost done with this fic.


	4. Dirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof warning for Cronus getting beat up

AI: Dirk.   
AI: Sollux sent me some things, and while _technically_ he swore me to secrecy, I really think that they require more action than he's going to take.   
AI: I mean, I'd handle it myself, but you have the advantage of being on the same continent as the current issue. 

TT: Hal, what the fuck are you talking about? 

artificialIntellect sent fuckingblackmail.jpeg, oldshit.mp4, fuckinghell.jpeg, and twelve other files! 

TT: Interesting file names. 

AI: I'm not in the mood to spar with you, Dirk.   
AI: Well, not with words. I'd love to try to beat the shit out of something right about now. 

TT: That bad?

AI: Look at the screenshots. I grabbed them off Cronus's computer when Sollux had me jump in to do a little extra data rearranging. 

TT: D's going to chew you out for that if Cro complains to Dualscar. 

AI: I somehow doubt he'll own up to this.   
AI: Look at the files. 

You roll your eyes at the dramatics of your twin and click the first of the files. What does he even want you to handle this time, anyway? Cronus isn't even—

Your brain takes in the purple and red of the screenshotted conversation, connects the words you're scanning with their meaning, and your heart just fucking _plummets._ All the images are pretty much the same, too: rows of Cronus trying to talk Dave into shit he's not mentally capable of and doesn't want to do, subtly threatening him and then moving to not-so-subtly threatening him. Some of them are date-stamped, up to almost a year ago, and your hands are shaking. 

You didn't _know._

The video is something you knew of the existence of—deduced that something like this had to exist, from D's phone conversations with lawyers and social workers and from the court transcripts that Hal acquired, the list of charges you read through with horror back then—but you'd never _seen_ it before. All these fucking videos were supposedly deleted, but fucking _Cronus_ had one, tried to use it to blackmail your cousin...

How dare he. How fucking _dare_ he, he had to have known what he was doing. Cronus is an idiot sometimes, but this is beyond idiocy, beyond fucking _everything_ —this is like what used to happen on Alternia, when the caste system was still a thing, before all that shit—

Hal somehow remotely activates the alarm on your phone; the persistent beeping snaps you out of your stunned paralysis. 

AI: Dirk.   
AI: Dirk.   
AI: Dirk. 

TT: Yes, I'm still here. 

AI: Good. I'd rather not have you go get yourself killed. Or kill anyone else; you're on Earth now, remember. Harder to dispose of a body. 

TT: I'm not sure what else you expected when you sent me that.   
TT: Why the hell didn't he tell us? 

AI: I don't know.   
AI: But Dave was pretty fucking close to programmed by that bastard, you know. The fact that he didn't think to tell us that Cronus was pressuring him is...understandable.   
AI: If it helps, as far as I can tell all of that shit happened over a two-week period about a year ago. It hasn't been continuous, I swear. 

TT: ...fuck.   
TT: Okay.   
TT: I need a location on Cro, Hal. 

AI: I can't bail you out if you get arrested, and I can't be there to back you up and make sure you don't get your ass kicked, Dirk. 

TT: I'm not going to really kill him. Metaphorically, maybe. 

AI: I can be on a plane back to Texas in two hours. It's not your job to get hurt over this. 

TT: I'd contest that statement. It's not your job to define my job, anyway..   
TT: This is Cronus. I've been scuffling with him since we were four sweeps old. I know how to hurt him. 

AI: Years. 

TT: What? 

AI: _Years,_ Dirk. Eight years old.   
AI: You're on Earth now. Keep that in mind. 

TT: As in, don't get arrested? 

AI: Yes. 

TT: I won't.   
TT: Where is he? 

AI: Home. Be _careful,_ dumbass. 

TT: Of course. 

* * *

Ideally for your safety, you would take weapons to the violetblood's place. For _his_ safety, you go unarmed but for the metal-studded fingerless gloves you rarely wear anymore—a present from Jake, a couple years ago, when you were both on Alternia and he knew that you ran with a rough crowd. 

You probably can't kill someone with them, though. Not without a lot of work and enough time to reconsider what you're doing. 

The instincts ingrained in you from sweeps (years, goddamnit, _years_ ) of living with trolls are telling you that you should have brought a fucking sword. 

You ignore them, and test Cronus's door to see if it's locked. 

It's not. 

The sound of Alternian invective leads you to his bedroom; he's sitting at the desk, typing on his laptop and swearing quietly to himself, earfins flared with confused frustration. The screen of the computer is currently blank unreasoning blue—you're guessing Sollux fucked it up quite nicely. 

"Cronus," you say quietly and calmly from the doorway.

If he had anything on his face other than mild surprise when he looked up at you, you might have just fucking talked it out. Started with talking, anyway. He's like a hatchmate (no, _brother_ ) to you; you shouldn't go straight to beating the shit out of him. 

But he looks up, looks surprised for a second and then relieved as he pushes the chair back and stands up. "Perfect timing—all my tech's throwving a hissy fit, I could use some—" 

_Oh._

He thinks you're going to _help_ him. 

Oh fuck no. 

Cronus is on his feet and you lunge at him, some corner of your mind noting that his face is bruised even before you slam your fist into his jaw and feel skin break and teeth dislodge under the pseudoarmor of your glove. Someone's already punished him today, but they sure as hell didn't do enough. 

"Di- _irk_!" His voice goes high and terrified as you hook an arm around his neck and spin him around, slide your fingers into the sensitive gills on his neck and jerk roughly to make him move how you want him to. There's warmth and coolness on the hand gripping his secondary respiratory organs; you've cut yourself on the sharper cartilage edges of his gills and managed to make him bleed there in addition to the stream of purple working its way down his face from his nose. "Dirk, vwhat—vwhat the fuck—" 

You slam his back against the wall and twist your fingers, hating how much you like the grimace of pain that crosses his face in response to that. How his chest heaves because to him, it feels like his airway's clogged, like he's in danger of drowning or suffocating. 

"Dave," you say, still quietly and calmly. 

Cronus's eyes go wide enough for you to see yellow all the way around his pupils, and he goes completely still. "Dirk, bro, I svwear the kid's a fuckin' liar—" 

That's as far as he gets, because you hit him again, backhanding him across the side of the face and leaving an almost-tattoolike brand of the pattern of metal studs on that glove across his cheekbone. There's going to be blood on your gloves, you realize. You're not sure if it'll stain or not, but at least violet won't show too badly on black. 

Shit, what kind of a monster are you, that _that's_ what you're thinking of now? 

"Call me your bro again and I'll feed you your own fucking bulge." You hate your own voice. There's no tremor in it. No emotion either, as you lay your palm flat against his throat and start to press down, digging the fingers of your other hand deeper into his gills. "What were you thinking, asshole? That you'd guilt him into letting you fuck him, fucking _rape_ him? You thought that'd work? You thought I wouldn't find out about what you tried to do to my cousin?" 

Everything in his body has to be screaming submission right now—you're triggering two of the biggest domination points for seadwellers, weak points, places he desperately doesn't want a weapon near—but Cronus is still squirming, mouth open and dripping purple as he tries to get enough breath to answer you. The temptation to deny it to him—to keep strangling him until you can take your hands away and let him slip unconscious to the floor—is really fucking strong. 

Instead of doing that, you ease some of the pressure off his throat. 

"He's a goddamn _pornstar—_ " Cronus chokes out as soon as you let up, and you jerk him forward with one hand twisted in his shirt and one knuckles-deep in his gills, slamming him hard enough against the wall that his head bounces and his eyes go unfocused for a heartbeat. 

"He's not anything like that, dipshit," you snarl, and lapse into Alternian without thinking about it. " _That is my—_ " No word for brother; you go with the closest analogue this language has for _family._ "— _hatchmate; even if your life wasn't forfeit for trying to force yourself on another, I'd be duty-bound to end you._ " 

Cronus whimpers. He doesn't even try to answer, just lets his eyes slide shut and his head roll back as far as he can, exposing his throat. 

There's no word in Alternian for _please._ No word for _sorry._

You don't think you'd accept either one from him just now. 

It's an effort to force yourself back into English. 

"If I ever find out you tried anything like this again, you're dead."

He clicks in understanding, deep in the back of his throat. 

"This isn't fucking playing. I'll kill you and sink your body in the fucking gulf for the whales to eat, Cronus." 

Another click, and a very quiet, "Yes." 

"It won't take Hal more than ten minutes to plant enough shit to make Dualscar think you ran off with someone. There's no risk here for me. I could kill you now and I'd get away with it, but you're my hatchmate." When his eyes open a crack, you dig your fingers deeper into his gills, ignoring the flash of pain as the edges slice your hand again. "Gets you one free pass, and this is it." 

"Dirk—" 

" _Stay away from Dave._ " 

"Dirk—" 

You don't know if he's doing to plead for forgiveness or what, but you're not listening to that shit. Instead, you yank your fingers out of Cronus's gills—deliberately letting your fingernails scrape across the sensitive insides of his gills—and he shrieks in pain, both hands coming up to grab at where you've hurt him. He doesn't move to block your next punch. Maybe he doesn't even see it coming. 

Which means that the blow does exactly what you meant it to: slams his head against the wall again with enough force that his eyes roll back and close, and he collapses in a heap on the floor. 

You resist the urge to kick him, turn around and leave the way you came.

* * *

AI: Dirk.    
AI: Dirk.    
AI: Dirk, I know you're home. I can see your location on my screen.    
AI: I need to know how badly you got fucked up. 

TT: Cut hand. Bruised knuckles. 

AI: And Cronus? 

TT: Knocked him out.   
TT: He doesn't need a hospital. 

AI: Your mental state? 

TT: Fuck off, Hal. 

AI: Ah.   
AI: So, that's where you're fucked up.   
AI: Text Jake. 

TT: He's working at a dig with Rufioh and the Zahhaks. No signal. 

AI: John, then. Fuck, text D or Dave.   
AI: We both know you won't talk to me, and I'm not capable of working you down from whatever fucked up state of mind you're in. 

TT: I'm not in any kind of fucked up state of mind.   
TT: I just deliberately hurt Cronus.   
TT: To a degree that might constitute torture.   
TT: Fuck, I don't know enough about Earth legal shit to make that call. 

AI: I doubt it was legally torture. Intimidation, yes. 

TT: Hal, I fucking liked it. 

AI: So? 

TT: That's not an appropriate response to that statement. 

AI: You hurt someone who hurt our family. You did it to keep Dave safe, and to punish the one who hurt him. 

TT: Cronus is family too and you know it. 

AI: Yes.   
AI: But he fucked up. More than fucked up, because that implies a mistake.   
AI: He didn't make a mistake; he made a goddamn _choice_ here. And I guess you made a choice too—you chose to punish him, and if doing that felt good, isn't that somewhat understandable?   
AI: We're fighters, Dirk. You just did something you were trained to do, for what the emotional parts of your brain know is a good reason. Of course it's going to trip your reward centers. 

TT: ...god I hate your logic. 

AI: I know.   
AI: I texted Roxy and told her to come over and play damage control on you. That okay? 

TT: I mean, you already did it.   
TT: But. Yeah. That's good.   
TT: Thanks, Hal. 

AI: No problem, bro.   
AI: You did a good thing. Thank you for that. 

TT: ...yeah. 

timaeusTestified is offline! 


	5. D and Dualscar

technicolorGladiator (TG) started pestering suaveMercykilling (SM)!

TG: babe. uh. we gotta talk. 

SM: Oddly enough, I vwas about to text you the exact same thing. 

TG: fuck. guess hal was wrong after all.

SM: So Hal vwas in on this shit too? Fucking hell, D. Vwhat the fuck is vwrong with your kids right noww? 

TG: dualscar. stop. like right fucking now, you need to shut the hell up about whats wrong with the twins.   
TG: im guessing you only talked to cronus so i know you got maybe a tenth of the goddamn story right now, and you need to take a step back from your kid for a minute. 

SM: Vwhat, like _you're_ doing? You're defending your brats.

TG: look im not taking the first fucking ride back to houston to strangle the little fucker, im doing pretty fucking good right now.    
TG: did cro even tell you why dirk beat the shit outta him?

SM: He doesn't know vwhy. 

TG: bzzzzt    
TG: liar liar pants on fire    
TG: him, not you

SM: You're _actually_ three svweeps old.

TG: no, dualscar, im using sarcasm to keep myself from flipping out on you.    
TG: mostly because youre not the one im pissed at.    
TG: you didnt know this shit was going on. right? 

SM: I don't evwen knoww vwhat "this shit" is!    
SM: Cronus is texting me saying that Dirk kicked his coddamn ass, Dirk refuses to ansvwer calls or texts, you're being stupidly roundabout again—howw the fuck am I supposed to knoww vwhat's going on?    
SM: You knoww vwhat, you havwe fivwe minutes to givwe me some information, because Psii just smacked me for growling vwhile I vwas reading your texts and it'll take me that long to get somevwhere privwate.

TG: five minutes huh?    
TG: cutting it close there babe 

technicolorGladiator  sent: screenshot_dave_and_cro.jpeg

TG: there you got your kid tryin to blackmail dirks cousin/fucking adopted brother into sex    
TG: which is SHITTY on every fucking level but the fact he used the shit my goddamn brother did makes it worse    
TG: wait fuck you werent with me when i handled the shit after bro got arrested were you    
TG: hang on 

technicolorGladiator  sent: court_transcripts.pdf

TG: thosere from bros trial okay   
TG: i get that you probably dont wanna read through that whole fucking thing but just the fuckin opening statements should give you some fucking idea what cro did to the poor kid    
TG: and yeah i know that the blackmail shit is from a while ago but dirk just now found out    
TG: yknow what here you can read this too just because hal sent it to me and im pissed about it

technicolorGladiator  sent: screenshot_cro_and_kan.jpeg 

TG: fucking idiot dragged more people into it just because he didnt get what he wanted    
TG: tried to get kan to hurt dave since he was too chickenshit to step up and get punched himself   
TG: fuck

SM: Vwhy is that labeled as a convwersation vwith Kanaya? 

TG: ...what.    
TG: fucking hell. kankri. not kanaya. 

SM: That does make more sense.    
SM: ...fuck. 

TG: im gonna guess youre reading through the shit from the trial? 

SM: You knoww me so vwell.    
SM: I'm still pissed at Dirk for taking justice into his owwn hands, but you can tell Hal that Cronus is about to be in vwery deep shit indeed.

TG: ill talk to dirk about not thinking hes justified in handling everything himself, dont worry. just, uh. not right now.   
TG: do me a favor? dont chew him out over this yourself. please.    
TG: hals already got rox over there trying to talk dirk out of just going into a fucking guilt spiral. you know hes already angrier at himself for letting this happen than you are at him for doing it. 

SM: ...yeah. You're right.    
SM: Yours and mine are pretty damn close to broodmates, after all. 

TG: yeah. makes this exponentially more shitty. for everyone.    
TG: fuck, i gotta go. tgh just figured out ive been ignoring him for the last half hour and hes giving me the evil eye; i kinda want to keep my head attached so yeah.    
TG: talk to you tonight

SM: See you at home. Lovve you. 

TG: red for you too babe 

technicolorGladiator disconnected!


	6. Roxy

artificialIntellect (AI) started pestering tipsyGnostalgic (TG)!

AI: Yo, Roxy. How am I on favors owed right now?

TG: right now u owe me lol  
TG: like i dont gotta problem with adding to the list of stuff i can get u to do though

AI: Oh, good. Because I need you to go hang out with Dirk.

TG: oooh what happened  
TG: something happened didnt it?  
TG: and what kinda quote "hanging out" unquote am i doing anyway   
TG: annoy until he snaps kind of hanging out? spy on him for u kind of hanging out? whats my agenda here hal?

AI: The answers to your questions are yes, he'll probably tell you, calming him down, no, no, and see question three's answer. In that order.

TG: dont be a dick

AI: I'm not trying to, at the moment.  
AI: He needs to not be sitting alone in the apartment right now, and you're closer to him than most people. Plus you're an expert at not letting him feed you bullshit.

TG: damn hal, do i detect some concern for ur bro here?

AI: ...  
AI: That's a reasonable hypothesis.

TG: lmao ur not gonna say it are you

AI: Heaven forbid that I admit I'm legitimately worried about the idiot.

TG: lmao  
TG: ill take care of him dont worry

AI: Thanks, Rox. I owe you one. _Another_ one.

TG: damn right u do

artificialIntellect disconnected!

* * *

Dirk's door is locked, which is kind of annoying but not totally unforeseen. Luckily you have a spare key from all the times you've taken care off the place when he was out of town or offplanet; if he'd deadbolted it, maybe you'd have had a problem. 

Well, maybe not a problem. Call it a setback. There _is_ a fire escape on this building, after all. Never let it be said that you're not totally capable of a little climbing when you need to be. 

Right now, though, you don't need to, so you let yourself in, lock the door back, and consider where Dirk probably is at the moment. 

Bedroom. Or kitchen. Probably on his computer, either way; that's one of his retreats, both a way to punish himself and disconnect from reality. A third option is that he's in the shower, but you really hope that isn't the case. If it is, you'll be hanging around for a good hour at least, maybe longer. 

Not that you have a problem with that. You know the password to get into his laptop too; it's not like you really have a problem with watching a couple episodes of whatever anime comes up first on Netflix. Or fucking around on the shared world you two built on Minecraft. You do still need to work on the giant rainbow dick you started directly in the middle of the panoramic view from his main base's windows...

But it looks like that's not on the agenda today, because you open the door to the kitchen and Dirk's sitting at the table, totally focused on his laptop. He doesn't give any sign of having noticed you, but when you step up behind him and pull his headphones off his ears he doesn't jump, so he obviously knew you were here. 

Which means the lack of response is a quiet way of saying that he doesn't _want_ to respond, doesn't want to talk about whatever's up. Doesn't want company. 

Which, in turn, means he probably kinda _needs_ company. 

You're too familiar with how Dirk thinks for these tactics to work on you. "Hey, Dirky. Your bro sent me over; he thinks you need some together time." 

"Nosy bastard." He hits a couple more keys, hesitates as the lines of code onscreen collapse back into the main screen, then tips his head back to look up at you. When you pluck his shades off his nose, he doesn't resist, but he doesn't really smile at you either; just gives you an unreadable, upside-down look for maybe five seconds before he closes his eyes. "He tell you what went down, or no?" 

"Nope; just said you'd tell me." 

One orange-gold eye cracks open for a second. "Asshole knew you wouldn't quit quit pushing until you got the whole story." Like always when he loses a skirmish with his twin, Dirk's tone is a weird mix of pissed-off and admiring. "Smart." 

"Mm-hm. 'Smart' is the Strider specialty, right?" 

That gets a snort from him, not quite a laugh. "Fuck no, it's not." 

"Is too, shut up. What happened?" 

"Sit down." When you move out from behind him, Dirk straightens up, glancing longingly at where you've set his shades on the table before deciding against picking them up again. As you pull out the other chair at the table and spin it around so you can sit backwards in it, he rubs his eyes with one hand and fails to hide a wince. "Shit. Okay. I hurt Cronus. Hurt him purposefully, hurt him as badly as I could without making it obvious he'd been beat up." He sighs, crosses his arms and uncrosses them again because he can't fidget with his arms folded, eyes skimming across everything in the room other than you. "I mean, it _is_ obvious. I punched him twice in the face, I'm pretty sure somebody else hit him at least once before I got there...the fucker deserved it, though." 

He stops to rub his eyes again, with the heel of his hand instead of his fingers—he's hurt himself somehow, you'd bet money on it. "God, Roxy, listen to me say shit like that. 'He deserved it,' like I'm not just as fucking bad." 

"I mean, the fact you're in here having a personal crisis kinda makes a point against you being as bad as Cro, even if I have no clue what he did yet. Your narrative skills suck, Dirky."

"Fuck off, Rox." Indignation gives him the necessary self-control to cross his arms and keep them crossed as he scowls at you. That lasts a couple seconds; then he sighs and relaxes again. Forces himself to relax again. "I guess you're not wrong."

After _another_ second of silence, you prompt him, "And?" 

"Hold your nonexistent horses, Lalonde." One more deep breath, and he starts talking.

* * *

Dirk has a way of putting things he doesn't want to talk about. It's not Dave's cagey evasiveness, not how D dances around the subject, not even Hal's sarcastic straightforward approach. Nope, when Dirk's reluctant to talk about things, he almost always goes straight into explaining them in as much excruciating detail as he can, like he's punishing himself for wanting to hide things that someone else wants to know. 

That's what he's doing now. Giving you a play-by-play of his convo with Hal, the results of it. It's more detail than you really need, delivered with perfect calm. (And maybe a few more words than he needs.)

You just let him talk, though, until he mentions cutting his hand on Cronus's gills. Then you tell him to shut up, threaten to pick his skinny self up and drag him into the bathroom for a quick first aid session if he doesn't cooperate and let you take care of him right here and now. 

Thankfully, Dirk does acquiesce to that one. He doesn't really react to the process of cleaning out the deep-ish cuts, though; just finishes talking as you get him to move his fingers around and make sure they're all in working order. He finishes about the same time _you_ finish, and ends up just sitting there as you make sure the bandage is on securely, the calm mask of his face wavering and cracking a little. Not enough for you to really know what's behind it. 

"Okay, well, I'm a little less worried about you dying from some kind of nasty seatroll bacteria now," you tell him, leaning back against the wall. "Not so sure about your head, but we'll work that out." 

"You know I didn't hurt my head," he points out.

"You know _exactly_ what I meant, Dirk. Hal doesn't try and get you support unless he knows you need it, so don't even try with the 'hurr durr I'm Dirk Strider, nothing fucks me up, I'm too cool for that'—stop laughing at me, you dork." 

Predictably, he does not stop laughing, even if he covers his mouth with his uninjured hand. As if that'd hide it at all. Eh, at least he's smiling. And you gotta be honest; your impersonation of him is really, really awful. 

"I _never_ said any of that in my life," he finally says, lowering his hand to show that his face is solemn again, even if the corners of his eyes are crinkled up like he's just an inch away from grinning again. " You're delusional. Or something."

"I," you tell him seriously, "am a mind reader. And it's cool as hell. And you gotta validate why you think you're as shitty as Cronus is right now, or suffer the consequences." 

"I feel like I should get punished if I _am_ as bad as him, not if I'm not, Roxy." 

"Well I make the rules and you just abide by them. Start talking, Dirky." 

His face screws up in a grimace that's mostly purposeful, intended to let you see what he thinks of your rules. Then, "He hurt my family; I hurt him." 

"Fair enough." 

"It's not, though. He's my family too, you know? We've been around each other since we were two sw— _fuck,_ four or five years old, and I just fucking. Tortured him." Dirk grimaces, hands closing into too-tight fists. "I didn't even think twice. I could've just told Dualscar, I could've texted him, threatened him, warned him off Dave, and what did I do?" 

It's not a rhetorical question. Dirk's just staring at you, waiting for some kind of response. 

"You protected Dave," you tell him, and he shakes his head violently. 

"No, I decided I could take revenge on Cro for fucking with him in the first place. Because I was _pissed,_ because I _wanted_ to, because—fuck! It doesn't even matter why, it was the shittiest possible thing I could have done, and you know why I did it?" This one _is_ rhetorical, because he pauses for barely a second before he answers himself. "Because I'm a shitty person, that's fuckin' why. Shitty, _stupid_ person, doesn't give a fuck about his goddamn family, I'm—" 

Okay, yep, time to call a halt on this. You lean over and put two fingers over Dirk's lips, giving him a stern look as he keeps trying to talk. "You win a prize right now." 

He knows better than to talk, but he does raise his eyebrows in an obvious _do tell_ gesture. At least that's what you're going to take that as. 

"It's a very special award, given to the guy who really, really doesn't want to admit that he didn't really do anything wrong, but since he's kinda related to the guy who _did_ fuck up, he wants to punish himself. Plus, he thinks he deserves to be punished for punishing the first guy anyway, so he's just going to talk everybody _else_ into believing he sucks." You smile sweetly at Dirk, taking your hand away from his mouth. "Are you getting my drift here?" 

"Unfortunately, yes." 

"And my drift is?" 

"That I'm being a dramatic, self-pitying asshole?" 

"Close, except a hell of a lot less mean to you in how I say it." 

He just shrugs. "Rox, right now I deserve—" 

Your hand comes down over his mouth, turning the rest of that sentence into a muffled mess. "Nope." 

He rolls his eyes, and as soon as you take your hand away again he starts, "You can't tell me I did the right thi—" 

You muzzle him again. "Don't make me get the duck tape, Di-Stri. I'll do it and you know it." This time when you let him go, he just huffs instead of arguing, crossing his arms and trying not to smile. "You didn't do the best thing." 

"That's what I've been trying to—" 

" _But_! You're not scum either, dumbass. Like, seriously, quit making yourself out to be a monster." He's too tall for you to just sling your arm over his shoulders and steer him out; you do the next best thing, pulling him a step forward and then planting both hands flat on his back, pushing him out of the bathroom. "If you think you gotta be punished for what you did, think about the fact that you got one hand all cut up and spent, like, an hour beating yourself up for it before I got here. That's _plenty_." 

Now he _is_ laughing. Very quietly, just enough for you to feel it through your contact with him. "Okay, okay. You win, Roxy. What do I have to give your for a prize?" 

"Couple of hours building our world on Minecraft," you answer immediately, because that's a really good way for him to destress too. When he nods and offers you a quick smile, before heading off to grab a laptop for you, you fish your phone out of your pocket and text Hal that it's all good here now. 

Which it really is.

**Author's Note:**

> based on an rp i had...


End file.
